The Help
by Naomilyloveless
Summary: Mississippi 1959. During a time of racial segregation, Santana and Brittany find themselves fighting against the masses to prove love is colorblind...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I have quite a few unfinished stories going on right now but I have a bad habit of getting an idea in my head and having to act on it. So, I've been re-reading The Help and I really don't know why I didn't think of doing this months ago. Reviews are nice but not necessary, they mostly just let me know if you guys are reading which is really all that matters, I don't need my ego boosted ;)**

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><p>Mississippi. 1959.<p>

I had dreams. Big dreams. But it didn't matter. My life was mapped out the second I was born.

I had a good childhood. Money was scarce but I grew up in a tight knit community that helped eachother out. My father had run out on us when I was four years old; I didn't remember much about him 'cept that he was kind, my friends often spoke bout how they fathers would come home in the evening time all worked up and angry and beat they mothers for an hour straight, but my father never touched my mama with a violent hand.

He worked at Hudson and Hummel lumber yard, earning a dollar thirty five an hour and when he left, my mama was forced to take on more work. It took its toll on her. She seemed to age 10 years in the months that followed. My brother took on the roll of man of the house, he left school and worked with my mama up at the Fabray estate as a gardener.

My mama was stern, she didn't take no flack or backtalk, but she was gentle and patient. She worked as a maid, like all the other women in our neighborhood, and I knew I would be no different. I despised the thought of serving white folk after hearing the stories my mama and her friends would talk bout when they thought I was sleepin', but I didn't have no choice. I had never had much contact with white people but from the little interactions I did have with them, I didn't like what I saw. They were cruel and dismissive. They could make you feel two feet tall with just a look.

We lost my brother in the Spring of 1959, he got beat up real bad by some white boys on his way home from fishin'; by time we got to him, he was dead. The little piece of my mama that was still alive when my daddy left, was gone after that. There was no sparkle left in her eyes and she never smiled. She didn't even get out of bed most days. A messenger boy had arrived at the house one day, sent by the Fabrays to tell my mama she was fired. I had gone to their estate and offered to work in her place but they said they had no need for an inexperienced child. I knew they didn't really care about my lack of experience or about my age, they were tryna teach my mama a lesson, they were mad that she hadn't returned to work immediately. I had heard rumours of kind white folk, and I'm sure they existed, but the Fabrays certainly didn't fall into that bracket.

The landlord was becoming impatient. He had been reasonably understanding about the delayed rent at first having lost a nephew to the KKK the previous year, but he was growing restless. I dropped out of school in order to help my mother out, I could tell she felt bad but didn't even have the energy to try and stop me.

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><p>In late June, a new family had moved to the area; their house was located just outside of town. I hadn't seen the house but imagined it would be pretty big. All houses on the outskirts were generally much larger than the ones closer to town. They were looking to hire a three maids; that also prompted me to think the house was larger than average. Most folk only had need for one.<p>

My mama's best friend, Minnie Jones, got me the job at the Pierce estate. She had quit her job and sought this one too. Her daughter, Mercedes was my age and she too had left school to help her parents with the bills. Minnie had walked the six miles to the Pierce estate three days ago and offered her services, told them she had two fine young girls to make up the other two vacancies too and they accepted. She said the Pierces seemed like nice enough folk and gave the three of us the job without much hesitation.

To my knowledge, Mrs Jones had enjoyed working for her previous employers well enough. They were elderly but they gave her fair pay and treated her with more kindness than most; I figured she only took the job with the Pierces to keep an eye out for Mercedes and me.

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><p>It was a hot July morning when the three of us set off for our first day at Whitefield, as the house was so named. Like everyone else in the neighborhood we took the bus. It was cramped and uncomfortable with the blazing heat but we'd been thought from a young age not to complain about such fruitless matters.<p>

Mrs Jones sat behind us, going over rules of behavior and correct mannerisms for the fifth time that morning. I had stopped paying attention on the third round, too nervous to retain anything else she had to say. My mama had tried to prepare me the night before for what to expect. She said it was likely the Pierces had a young family and that my main priority would probably be looking after the chilluns. At 15 I thought that was a heavy responsibility to put on someone of my age but my mama told me she done raised her first baby when she was just 13. I fidgeted at the thought, I was the youngest in my family and never had to look after someone else before. I wanted to burst into tears but my pride wouldn't allow for it. I was sassy and loud, two qualities I had been warned not to exhibit while at work. Mercedes was much friendlier than me, she got in a lot less fights too, I was always the scuffler of the pair of us; we didn't have much in common but we somehow still managed to be friends.

The bus came to a halt in front of an intimidatingly long driveway, most of the buses occupants had already departed, leaving only the handful of outskirt maids. Dust floated through the air in the vehicle's wake as it sped off. We didn't move, just stared in awe at the sight before us.

It was rare that I visited the outskirts of town; usually only to go to the nicer part of the river on particularly hot days. It was fine for people like us to swim in the river because there was never a chance of white folk coming to claim the spot, they wouldn't be caught dead there, they had community swimming pools. But even during my trips to the river, I had never seen many houses, maybe one or two, but always at a distance. This was definitely the closest I'd ever gotten to one, and it was magnificent – three stories tall, with large white pillars and cute navy shutters on each window, a long decking ran the length of the house and a beautiful porch swing swayed (even though there was no wind), the garden was long and stunning red roses formed a boarder around the lawn, blue deck chairs were placed under the largest tree in the yard and though the sun fell directly on them now, it was easy to tell they had been located for the shade the tree would provide. I was completely mesmerized. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined a house as grand as the one I stood before.

"Come on child" Mrs Jones snapped me out of my reverie, pulling me by the arm towards the front door.

A tall blonde woman greeted us before we made it up the final steps of the decking, she wasn't young but didn't look old either, and judging from how pale and soft her skin looked I'd bet she never worked a day in her life.

"Welcome Minnie" she sang warmly in her country drawl, embracing Mercedes' mother. I thought this a strange interaction, never before had I witnessed a white person be so welcoming to a person of color, let alone initiate a hug.

"Mornin' Miss Pierce." Minnie looked obviously uncomfortable by the advance but Mrs Pierce seemed not to have noticed. She pulled away and turned her attention to Mercedes and I.

"Oooh, and you two must be the fine young ladies Minnie told me about." She grabbed Mercedes for a hug, I watched slightly amused as my friend went completely rigid, unsure of how to respond. "Mercedes right?" the woman questioned. Mercedes simply nodded in response.

Mercedes was of a darker complexion to me and the spitting image of her mother; I guess Minnie had informed the woman of our names.

"Which must make you Santana. My, aren't you a pretty little thing!" She turned on me with a bright, eager smile.

"Yes ma'am" I braced myself for the hug I knew was coming, but nothing could have prepared me for the bone crushing embrace of this woman. My mama had once told me, in her experience, white folk weren't much for huggin' so she would give their babies an extra big hug when she arrived in the mornins' and before she left in the evenin' time in case it was the only affection they was shown all day. Clearly this theory wasn't entirely accurate.

"Please, no 'Miss Pierce' or 'ma'am'" the blonde woman insisted, stepping away from me and shaking her head for emphasis. "It makes me feel old. Call me Elizabeth or Lizzie if you'd like." She winked playfully.

I couldn't quite figure this woman out, her behavior went against everything I had been brought up believing. There was such warmth and kindness in her eyes and nothing about her tone of voice was even slightly patronizing.

I was further surprised when she excitedly grabbed my hand. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the rest of the family. She began dragging me through the front door, I reached out for Mercedes' hand and pulled her with me, noticing a small yet amused smirk form on her mother's face at my panic.

"GIRLSSSSS" Elizabeth bellowed from the end of the stars. "Come downstairs."

A few moments of silents passed before a shuffle of footsteps made their way across the landing and down the stairs.

Three girls, the oldest being no older than 11 at a stretch, lined themselves up in front of their mother. They each looked eerily similar to one another, except for the one at the end who was considerably plumper and more average looking than the other two. It was probably just baby fat though, she looked as though she were the youngest. Each girl shared the same blonde hair and blue eyes as their mother and were all dressed in brightly coloured sundresses.

"Girls, this is Santana, Mercedes and Minnie." She gestured to each of us and the smiles on each girls face grew wider, it was kinda creepy if I'm being truly honest. "You are to treat them with nothing but respect, you hear me? They are not here to tend to your every whim, understand?"

"Yes mama." They all said in unison.

Satisfied, Elizabeth nodded her head, "Now, go introduce yourselves."

The girl standing closest to her mother stepped forward first. She was only slightly smaller than me but her face looked much younger, I assumed she was simply tall for her age. She approached me with a wide, friendly grin that mirrored that of her mother.

"It's very nice to meet you Santana, I'm Joanne, but you can call me Jo." I smiled politely back at her and gave a small nod in acknowledgement. She proceeded down the line, shaking hands with both Mercedes and her mother in turn.

Next up was a shorter girl, but undeniably the prettiest of the three, her teeth were a little crooked, but other than that she appeared more or less flawless. "I'm Lucy."

I reached my hand to shake her already extended one before she moved on.

Last came the plump child, she was slower to approach and I felt slightly self conscious at the thought that perhaps she was uncomfortable in my presence. "Hi, I'm Megan." Her voice was quiet and I reasoned that she was probably more shy than uncomfortable.

When the introductions were out of the way, I watched curiously as Mrs Pierce whipped her head around as though searching for something.

"Where's your sister?" She asked the three girls, eventually.

They all shrugged in response.

The older woman turned to us with a look of apology. "I'm very sorry about this, my oldest daughter has a tendency to wander. Excuse me just a second." And with that, she exited the foyer.

Mercedes, Minnie and I stood awkwardly with Joanne, Lucy and Megan, none of us really knowing what to say. After an uncomfortable period of silence passed, Minnie finally spoke up.

"So, how old are y'all?"

The children looked relieved at the break in tension with Lucy piping up first. She definitely seemed to be the most confident of the sisters. "I'm 9 and a quatar." She announced proudly. It always amused me how every fraction of age was so important to kids. You'd never find a grown up saying, 'I'm 35 and a third.'

Joanne spoke up next, smiling pleasantly, "I'm 11."

Our attention then turned to Megan, who remained silent, keeping her eyes firmly glued to the ground and her hands interlocked.

"How bout you little one?" Mrs Jones asked gently as she cautiously approached the young girl.

Joanne nudged her, "Don't be rude Megan, answer Minnie."

Megan looked up at her sister apologetically before addressing Mrs Jones. "I'm 6."

I felt rather sorry for the kid. I couldn't relate since shy was never part of my persona but she looked so small and nervous I couldn't help but feel sympathy for her.

Mrs Jones gave her an understanding smile and backed away again.

Before we had a chance to fall back into the awkward silence, Elizabeth returned, followed closely by another girl, this one was much taller than the others, by quite a bit in fact. As she emerged from behind her mother I took in her appearance.

She was taller than any other girl I'd ever seen but it didn't look abnormal, her blue sundress was pretty but covered in dry mud, like she had been rolling around in the garden; while rolling around in the dirt for play was something I had often done myself, I knew it was frowned upon by circles like the ones she would mingle in. I felt heat rise at the back of my neck as I ran my eyes over her form, noting how well her dress clung to her curves, I'm not even sure why I noticed that at all. She lifted her head just as my eyes reached her face, her eyes glistened the brightest blue, set off more by the blue of her dress, she looked at me slightly quizzical, almost as if she were trying to read my mind or figure me out entirely with a simple look. I returned her stare with a challenging glint, silently daring her to say something. A wide grin spread across her features and a strand of hair fell from her already disheveled ponytail.

Before I had a chance to prepare myself, the intriguing girl had rushed forward and pulled me into a hug that could have rivaled her mother's.

"I'm Brittany, it's great to meet you, I just know we'll be friends." She decided, stepping back, her smile never faltering. I chanced a glance at Minnie, although this was my first experience as a maid, I was relatively certain that befriending the family you work for was uncustomary. Minnie caught my glance and her face remained pleasant but I saw the subtle shake of her head that let me know Brittany's statement was not an option. My heart sank a little, I hadn't realised when she initially said it but I had liked the thought of being her friend. She was nice and not at all reluctant to put herself out there.

I returned my attention to the girl in front of me still waiting for some kind of response. I smiled at her and tried to make it as genuine as possible but it still felt forced, maybe because I knew she was serious in her friendship statement and I knew that was not a possibility.

I nodded my head courteously, "Santana, Miss."

She paused on me for a few seconds further and I felt myself shift self consciously under her gaze.

She moved down the line introducing herself to Mercedes and Minnie but appeared to have calmed.

"Okay, now that we have that out of the way, allow me to show you the rest of the house." She began to lead us up the stairs, but stopped suddenly and turned to address us, "You'll start work every day at nine o clock and finish at six, Sundays off, of course. And one Saturday of every month, but we'll work out rotation for that. Santana and Mercedes, if you don't mind, I'd like Minnie to do all cooking, for now at least, but your chores will rotate in accordance with what needs to be done, if the girls should need a helping hand with anything such as homework or other endeavors, you may give them priority over household tasks."

We nodded in understanding and proceeded up the stairs. I glanced back before reaching the top and found Brittany staring up at me with that same curious look on her face. I threw her a shy smile and I could have sworn I saw a blush creep up on her cheeks before she took off back outside at a run.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I've been taking a little winter hiatus for myself but I'm back and ready to sink my teeth into writing again. I promise updates will be more frequent from now on! So I hope you like them. Please let me know if you do? It's alway helpful to know what you're liking or hating, so good and bad reviews are all welcome!:)**

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><p>Miss Pierce walks us around the big ole fancy house, and I do my best to remember where each room is 'case I get lost when we gotta split up later on. There are eight rooms down stairs, each one finely decorated with expensive lookin' furniture; one had a giant deer head mounted on a plaque over a large fireplace in Mister Pierce's study and it scared me a little; there were six bedrooms and five bathrooms in the main house and out back stood a modest sized pool house that was still bigger than the house I lived in with my Mama.<p>

It's the biggest place I've ever been in in my life, a person could get real lonely in a big ole house like this, but I guess with so many kids it can't get lonely; it's probably never quiet like in my house. Mama doesn't talk much these days so usually the only sound comes from the old radio we keep in the kitchen. My heart aches a little when I think of my Mama, probably still curled up under a blanket on our worn out couch. She does try, really she do, and some days she's fine, but she's heartbroken all of time, and I know she finds it difficult to look at me 'cause I gots the same eyes as my brother had, and my daddy, but still, she try.

I think back to the night before when my Mama had reeled off the same list of rules of behavior that Minnie done spent all morning driving into us: 1. No sass talkin'. She made a point of making this rule number one knowin' how often my sharp tongue had gotten me into trouble. 2. Mind my own business. 'These are your employers, not your friends; they don't wanna hear your problems and they ain't gone wanna tell you theirs', she had said to me. 3. Use the same plate, cup, knife and fork every day and always taste the food you cook with a separate spoon. But Miss Pierce had already said that she wanted Minnie to do most of the cooking for the the time being so I guess that last part didn't matter too much, for now at least. 4. Don't hit on their kids. White folks like to do their own spanking. Miss Pierce seemed real nice though, I couldn't imagine her ever laying a hand on one of her girls. 5. Don't use their bathroom while they're around. That last one made me real mad; I'm not even sure why. I guess it's 'cause I ain't dirty, I take a bath every day and I really couldn't see what difference it made. Still, I thought I best listen and do as I'm told. We need the money.

By time I zoned back in we had returned to the foyer; Miss Pierce had stopped talking and was now just giving us one of her super mega watt smiles, so bright I figure she could light the whole town with it.

"Do y'all have any questions?" She asked, the drawl of her accent smooth like butter.

I'm pretty sure there were a million things I want to ask but my mind is just completely blank, I wouldn't even know where to start and all my questions would probably sound silly. So instead I shake my head 'no'. My eyes shifted to Mercedes who looked just as nervous as I felt; she too shook her head. Miss Pierce's eyes fell on Minnie, her smile never faltering.

"I think we talked about everything just fine the other day, Miss Pierce." Minnie smiled. She had spent quite a long time here the other day hashing out the details, even down to payment. Since she's grown and will do all the cooking, she'll get two dollars an hour; Mercedes and I will get a dollar-fifty to start out with.

Miss Pierce nodded, satisfied with Minnie's answer.

"Would you ladies like some lemonade before you start?" Miss Pierce asked in such a way, as though she horrified she'd done forgot her manners or something. It was uncomfortably hot, even in this house with it's ceiling fans in every room; lemonade sounded delicious, but Minnie spoke before I had the chance to even think about accepting.

"We're fine. Thank you, Miss Pierce." She smiled at the white lady and nodded her head in thanks.

"Okay, well, I guess, Minnie, if you could get started on lunch, that'd be great?" Miss Pierce smiled, raising her question carefully; she almost seemed uncomfortable about delegating us chores. Minnie of course simply titled her head to show it was no problem. "And girls, would you prefer to stay together today?" She asked cautiously again.

I felt a wave of relief at the thought of getting to stay with Mercedes. It's not that I didn't know how to clean, 'course I did, this house was just so darn big and I was afraid to mess up on my very first day.

"They'll be just fine on their own, Miss Pierce." Minnie piped up again. I shot her a glare, more out of instinct than actually meaning it and she threw back a warning look. My eyes fell to the floor out of intimidation, all mothers got that look, even if it's not your mother giving it, it lets you know 'don't push it'. So I didn't.

"If you're sure?" Miss Pierce still treaded carefully, I guess she sensed mine and Mercedes' nerves, but knowing better than to say otherwise, we both just nodded and gave her a smile to let her know it was okay. "Then Mercedes, if you may wanna start with the bedrooms? And Santana, maybe you could do the study, library, and playroom downstairs?"

My heart sank with the word 'study', I was far from a scaredy-cat but that damn deer gave me the heebie jeebies.

"Of course" I smiled regardless at my displeasure and we set about our business.

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><p>I walked into the large library that had that beautiful smell of old books. I loved to read, it was my favourite thing, but it wasn't a luxury I often got. We only had three books in my house and I'd done read them at least 30 times each.<p>

Walking slowly and running the tips of my fingers against the spines of the old books, most of which I could tell hadn't been opened in years, I knew I could spend the next 20 years in here reading and I still wouldn't make it through the hundreds of books that adorned the walls.

I pick one out at random and turn it over to inspect the cover, _Jane Eyre_. I had always wanted to read a book like this. Back when I was at school my teacher used to tell me about the books by some lady called Jane Austin and what she told me of them, sounded magical. I opened the cover and started to skim through the pages, lost in the glimpses of words and random paragraphs I stop to read. It's hard readin', much harder than anything I ever read before, but I like it, it made me feel smart.

"What are you doin'?" came an unexpected voice; it startles me and I jolt mid page turn, my finger slides up the side of the sharp paper and a quick stinging sensation runs right through my index finger. I see the crimson blood appear and feel suddenly faint. I hated paper cuts, and blood, they were probably my least favourite things. I felt tears well up in my eyes at the sight; I wanted to cry, but I held it back, I didn't want the girl to think I couldn't handle a little paper cut and laugh at me. So instead, I scrunch my eyes shut tight and squeeze my right pointer finger with my left hand.

The blonde that had been standing in the doorway gasps dramatically and runs quickly to my side, grabbing my wrist and pulling the bleeding finger towards herself.

"You're bleeding!" Her voice is laced with concern and when I look up into her bright blue eyes I see the fear there mirrored her words. I shake myself out of my daze and grab my hand back.

"Obviously." The tone in my voice is sharp and I silently reprimand myself for it.

"I really didn't mean to startle you." She spoke honestly and I feel kinda bad for the eldest Pierce girl. She seems so sweet and gentle and I hated seeing such a guilty look in her eyes for something that was very much an accident. I wanted her to smile again, like she had earlier. She had a nice smile. Real pretty.

"Brittany, right?" I ask, looking back up at her with a softer tone. She nodded 'yes'. "It was just an accident. It was my fault really, I shouldn't have been reading that book in the first place."

Then I realize just how out of place my reading that book at all was and panic shoots through me, sending a quick cold sweat right down my body, kinda like when you knock something over and it starts to fall to the floor before you catch it. "Please don't tell? ... I mean, please don't say it to anyone that I was reading. I won't do it again. I swear!"

The smile on her face broadens impossibly wide. She looks at me like I just told her I'd buy her a puppy and I'm about to ask why she keeps staring at me like that, when she opens her mouth to speak first.

"Like a _secret?_" she whispers and shifts her eyes around the room warily. I do the same even though I know there's no one else in here.

"A secret?" I question and then stop to think about it before nodding, slowly thoughtful. "Yeah, I guess."

She lets out an excited squeak at my confirmation of the secret. My finger is still bleeding and I bring it to my lips to suck the blood before it drips and stains the carpet. I barely have it in my mouth half a second before she grabs at my wrist for a second time and pulls it away.

"No! Wait!" she exclaims and runs towards her father's desk. I know I'm giving her the most baffled look because frankly, I've never seen anyone behave so erratically in my life, well, apart for Old Joe who lives behind the grocery store and eats cat food, but he's crazy, and Brittany didn't seem crazy, just a little... different, I guess. Within seconds she runs back over to me brandishing a shiny silver letter opener, I flinch as she waves it in front of my face briefly before quickly bringing it to her own hand. Once I register what she's about to do I make an incoherent noise of protest and reach my hands for hers, but it's too late, she's already pierced a small cut into her palm. Blood soon emerges and once again, quicker than I can register her actions, she grabs my index finger in her now bloody palm. It doesn't last long before I pull swiftly away.

"Brittany! What the heck are you doing?" I ask her, bewildered. "You could get an infection, mixing blood like that!" I didn't know if that was true but it seems highly possible.

Brittany simply shrugs like it's no big deal and the giant, beaming grin returns to her face. "Now we're blood sisters. Best friends for life!" She practically bounces on the spot at her declaration and I can't help but smile at her. She had to be the most curious person I'd ever met, and once again, the thought of being her friend made me inexplicably happy.

_Best friends for life._ I'd never had a best friend before.

**Thanks for reading! :) **


	3. Chapter 3

I sigh, standing up straight and leaning on the broom in my left hand, I bring my right one up to wipe the light film of sweat off my forehead and look out at the garden. The heat is almost unbearable. Coming up close to August and it hasn't rained once since I started working here, which was almost a month ago now. The grass in the front yard is dry and is starting to turn a light shade of brown, the gardener comes twice a week but that damn lawn is so big that hosing it down is virtually a waste of time. It's a shame, because it's such a beautiful garden.

Usually I like to work outside; I know it's where Brittany prefers to spend her time and I feel bad that she stays inside when I gotta clean the rooms or polish the silver. She's taking this 'best friend' thing real serious and according to her, best friends are s'posed to spend all their time together. I sometimes catch her staring wistfully out the window of the living room when I'm dusting; so I work fast as I can and suggest we go outside so I can water the flowers on the days the gardener ain't there.

Making Brittany happy has become something I've taken on as one of my responsibilities. I hate when she's sad, it makes me sad and I don't quite know why. I hate that I can't just stop what I'm doing and play with her. Because she likes to play. She sometimes plays games on her own when I'm too busy to entertain her with conversation; she never plays with her sisters, that's something I've noticed.

Joanne, although younger than Brittany, was a lot more mature in her ways; she spent a lot of time holed up in her room or in the library reading books and not once had I seen her accept one of Brittany's requests to play a game. She usually scoffed at the mere mention of it and typically said something like '_Brittany, ladies don't play games_', that always made me squeeze my fists tight in anger. I didn't much like Joanne anymore 'cause of how she spoke to Brittany like she had no sense. Lucy and Megan were much younger than Brittany and while they'd occasionally ask her to play dolls with them, she'd always say no; I think she might have thought I'd think playing with dolls was stupid and for babies 'cause she always looked at me self consciously before declining. But I could never think anything Brittany wanted to do was stupid.

Today is the last Saturday of the month and is Minnie's Saturday off. The atmosphere in the house is more relaxed 'cause the Pierces have been at their church barbecue all day and because Mercedes and I were able to work without the scrutinizing eyes of Minnie pointing out all what we done wrong.

I shake myself from my musings and return to sweeping the porch when I see the Pierce's car approaching from the other side of the long driveway. I don't want them to think I was slacking off just 'cause they weren't home.

I smile at them in greeting as they get out of the car, but my smile quickly falters when I see Brittany exit the vehicle and run hurriedly to the cover of the large willow tree on the far end of the yard. I plaster on a happy expression again as the family begin making their way up the steps of the house, it wasn't my place to question Brittany's behavior. They all nod and smile at me in return before entering the house.

As soon as I hear the door click shut, I lean my broom against the wall of the house, hoist up my dress just a little and run to my friend. I find her sitting under the willow tree, her knees pulled right up to her chest with her arms hugging at her legs. She's crying, it's quiet, but I can see the way her body's shaking and she sniffles every few seconds.

I approach cautiously because I don't want to frighten her and I also don't know if she maybe just wants to be left alone.

When I get right next to her, I crouch down on my knees and sit back on top of my feet. I reach my right arm out and hesitantly, place a comforting hand on her shoulder, tilting my head slightly to the side trying to get a better view of her face which is buried into her legs.

"Brittany, you okay?" I ask; I know it's a stupid thing to say because she's very clearly not okay but I don't know how better to approach the situation.

She lifts her head a little and looks at me through red puffy eyes. Sniffling heavily again, she shakes her head 'no'.

"What happened? Did you not have fun at the barbecue?" The concern in my own voice surprises me even still. I know that I treat Brittany nicer than I do most people but I've never heard my voice sound like this 'cept to my mama.

Brittany shakes her head again and a fresh bought of tears begin to fall. I feel helpless. I need her to stop crying. I need her to smile. I need to fix whatever is making her so upset.

"Britt?" I try again, encouraging her to speak.

She sniffles, attempting to control her breathing, "They-they ca-called me u-ugly".

Her words come out broken but I hear them loud and clear, but I couldn't have?

"What! Who called you that?" My voice was incredulous; riddled with anger. I could feel my blood boil; the hand in my lap balls into a fist and the hand that still rests on Brittany's shoulder gripped tighter.

"D-David Karofsky, h-he said that g-girls shouldn't be tall-taller than boys and th-that my eyes w-were squinty and-and ugly" Her tears had stopped but she was still having trouble controlling her breathing.

Lord, if ever get my hands on this David Karofsky I'm gonna beat him six ways to Sunday and I don't give a damn what happens to me for it.

I shuffle closer to Brittany and place my other hand on the top of her knee. Her gaze has fallen back into her lap.

"Brittany. Britt, look at me," I pleaded and she looks up; her eyes lock on mine. "Brittany, don't you dare listen to a word that fool says! He's just some dumb boy. Ugly lives up on the inside, it be in mean, hurtful people. _He's _ugly, Brittany, not you! You're the kindest person I've ever met. You're pretty on the inside, like a sunflower," I used this comparison because I knew sunflowers are her favorite, and sure enough, it seems to work 'cause the beginnings of a smile are starting to appear on her face and her breathing is almost back to normal, so I continue, "You're pretty on the inside, Brittany, and _beautiful _on the outside."

"You're just saying that." She chuckles and wipes at her tear-stained cheeks.

I didn't smile, I kept my face serious, because I _am _serious.

"No, Brittany, I'm not. I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life! Maybe even the most beautiful girl in this whole world!" I say it, and even though it's the truth, inside it felt like something I shouldn't have said. But the smile that breaks out on to Brittany's face is the brightest one she's given me yet and I don't care if I shouldn't have said it, because I like making Brittany happy.

"You're wrong." She states matter-of-fact like, and I'm about to protest but she speaks again. "_You're_ the most beautiful girl in this world."

My stomach flips with her words and a strange excited feeling flows from the top of my head to the tips of my toes and I don't know what it is. The air around us changes and our eyes are still locked but it's a little more unnerving than it was just a minute ago. I feel kinda uncomfortable, but I can't look away.

And then, without warning, Brittany presses her lips onto mine. They're soft. I do nothing for a moment 'cause I don't know what to do, but then I press my lips into hers because it feels like what I should do. It doesn't last long before we both pull away. I hope my face doesn't look as goofy as hers, but I know it does 'cause I'm smiling, and it's hurting my cheeks so I know it's too wide.

A magic spark passed through us in that moment and I never ever want to take it back.

But realization hit, and my smile falters, but only for a second because it seems like this expression is firmly etched into my face forever.

"Britt, we can't tell anyone about that." I say. She nods because she hears the serious tone in my voice and she knows we'd get in trouble. Her smile drops for a second too, before becoming impossibly bigger.

"Like a secret?" She asks, mirroring the same question she had asked me weeks before.

I chuckle and nod my head. "Like a secret."

With that confirmation, I give her one last smile and head back towards the house, the happiness never leaving my face.

That was my first kiss.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: 'Kay, I wasn't too sure about this chapter, I know chapter-wise it seems like it's moving fast but it is set a couplet of weeks later. And I promise I have a plan, and it's not rushed, even if it may look like it. Just bear with me! :) I'm having so much fun writing this, I don't get a LOT of reviews for it, so I'm just hoping that people are actually reading it because I really enjoy writing this one! **

**Also, I have a question for you guys... I'm toying with the idea of alternating between Brittany and Santana's point of views... would you guys like to see things from Brittany's point of view or would you prefer I stick with just Santana's?**

**I know it takes a little bit more effort to leave a review, but I would really appreciate it, even just this time to answer the question:) **

**Thanks for reading:)**


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